


Meeting the Tatyar

by silvertrails



Series: First Age Arc [14]
Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-19
Updated: 2019-01-19
Packaged: 2019-10-12 18:10:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 526
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17472452
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silvertrails/pseuds/silvertrails
Summary: Amras and Amrod meet the few Tatyar who stayed in Middle-earth.





	Meeting the Tatyar

**Meeting the Tatyar  
By CC  
September, 2017**

The Valar, Maiar, Elves, Dwarves, and Men belong to J.R.R. Tolkien. No profit made and no harm intended. I’m just playing with them for a little while. 

This was written for the SWG September Challenge: Ancestors.

* * *

Telufinwë followed his twin through the narrow passes of the Ered Lómin, thinking of all that had happened since they came to these lands. Fëanáro had died, and his body turned to ashes that lingered for only a moment before his spirit passed to the West. Telufinwë and his brothers had returned to Lake Mithrim, and reinforced their encampment with the help of the Grey Elves. Maelathron was their leader, and Maela was his wife. They had managed to understand each other, despite the differences in their languages, and decided to build a new life under the stars.

Then Morgoth’s envoys had come, and captured Maitimo. They had threatened to kill him if the sons of Fëanáro stayed in Endorë. Makalaurë had decided to stay, and try to rescue their brother, knowing well that even if they left Morgoth was not going to be true to his word.

So here they were, unable or unwilling to go back, and hoping that Maitimo died before Morgoth’s creatures broke his body and his mind. The reality was cruel, for Morifinwë would wake up trembling and wide eyed. 

_“He is still alive,” he would say, “and they are torturing him.”_

“Stop,” he heard Pityafinwë say. “Those are no Grey Elves.”

Telufinwë looked ahead and saw the warriors that had suddenly showed up, dark hair and grey eyes, save for a few that had the same red hair as the twins. Pityafinwë stood there, sword in hand, while Telufinwë looked at the red-haired Elf, wondering if he was asleep and dreaming of his homeland.

“We mean no harm, but we will defend ourselves if you attack us,” a woman said. She had dark hair, braided in a familiar way. 

“We come from the West,” Pityafinwë said. “Our forefathers left the Waters of Awakening before we were born.”

“Are you perhaps kin of Mahtan?” the red-haired Elf asked. 

“He is our grandfather,” Telufinwë said.

“Had he come?”

Telufinwë shook his head. “He stayed back with our Mother.”

“We are the Tatyar, the few who decided to stay,” the woman said. “My name is Alcanë, daughter to Tata and Tatië.”

“Then you are sister to our grandfather Finwë. I am Pityafinwë, and my brother is Telufinwë, sons of Fëanáro, eldest son of Finwë.”

“How fares my brother?” 

“He is dead, killed by Morgoth.”

Alcanë’s eyes filled with sorrow. The red-haired Elf came closer to her. 

“You mean, the Dark One. I am Russë, and Mahtan is of my kin. Well met, kin of our kin. I wish the occasion was not filled with sorrow.”

“We will avenge our father’s and grandfather’s deaths,” Pityafinwë said. 

Alcanë looked at him, and then gestured for them to follow her. “Come with us, you who bear my brother’s name. Tell me about his life and his death, and we will tell you about these lands and how to survive in them.


End file.
